


Out of Ash and Fire

by LoveTheSimpleThings



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-29
Updated: 2015-04-19
Packaged: 2018-03-20 05:42:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3638886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoveTheSimpleThings/pseuds/LoveTheSimpleThings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Rebekkah, a potioneer's apprentice, moves to Dale to support the infirmary after BotFA, she doesn't encounter quite the victory she expected. Instead she finds two cities in ruins and an unconscious King under the Mountain. And winter is approaching fast.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Author's note:
> 
> This is my first Hobbit Fanfiction, please tell me what you think. No need to mollycoddle me, feedback is appreciated either way :)
> 
> This story is rated M. In the beginning just to be safe, later because of lemons ;)
> 
> If there is something you notice, it probably belongs to Professor Tolkien, Peter Jackson or J.K. Rowling
> 
> XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Chapter 1

 

The road is winding through the forest, ferns and bushes and trees forming a dome of innumerable shades of green and brown around them. No clouds or blueish sky are visible through the thick leaves over their heads, only the odd scattered rays of sunshine flickering over the moss-covered path.

  
The wagon is swaying gently, the wheels rattling softly and Rebekkah is trying her best not to succumb to sleep. Any moment now they will get their first glance at Dale, they have been on the road for a week and she will not miss this moment.

 

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Master Senius, the renowned potioneer of Brilthen, had informed her in his usual sober voice, that he was leaving for Dale and as his apprentice she was free to accompany him, should her father allow it. On her question

 

‘’why Dale of all places?’’ Her only answer had been:

  
‘’I’m leaving at sunrise and I would appreciate some help packing tools, potions and herbs, even if you’re not coming.’’

  
And that had been all she had gotten from him the entire day. They had worked in silence, producing large quantities of burn-healing-salve, wound-cleansing-concoction, milk-of-the-poppy-elixir and a pain-relieving-balm. After a month of working with Master Senius, she was adapting to their routine, carefully chopping herbs, measuring precise amounts and stirring patiently in a cauldron until all the ingredients had been distributed evenly, blended into a smooth solution and a distinct smell was surrounding her. Not to mention the heat from the open fire, which made her hair frizzed and drops of sweat collecting on her brow, running down a her nose. Her robe was sticking to her back between the shoulder blades and by the time she was done for the day, she felt like she had been run over by a horse. The soles of her feet ached from hours of standing, as well as her back and neck from bending over the workbench and when she made to grab her cloak on her way out with the hand, she had used for stirring the cauldron, her arm protested decidedly.

  
When she had dropped on the bench beside the kitchen table and emitted a loud groan, her siblings Aron and Katla had apparently caught unto her mood and wisely ignored her until their mother Finna had placed the steaming pot of stew on the table and everybody had gotten their share.

  
The momentary silence, while everybody was busy eating, was interrupted by her brother Aron. “You won’t believe what the surgeon’s daughter told me today. The dragon of Erebor had been woken by the dwarves, who tried to reclaim their kingdom, and then he was killed by the bowmaster, but not before he destroyed most of Laketown. So the people sought refuge in the ruins of Dale, but then an army of orcs attacked and elves of Mirkwood fought as well…”

  
Here her father and Rebekkah simultaneously interrupted him.

  
“Breathe, Aron.”

  
“You’re not making sense, boy.”

  
She was surprised, he had even managed to remain silent until dinner had been served. It all exploded out of him in such a rush. He continued a lot slower, recounting the events of Smaug’s death and the battle, which they coined ‘the battle of the five armies’.

  
“They are trying to build up a new life in Dale and under the mountain. They have set up an improvised infirmary in Dale to treat all the injured.” He ends his tale.

  
“How long has she known about this?” Her mother sounds a little irritated, perhaps because she hadn’t been the first to hear about this.

  
“Her father received the news only today. According to her, her father is in close contact with the chief healer of Laketown, who sent a pigeon, asking for his help. Obviously without any chance of success, the surgeon is such a lazy sod, I’m surprised he even gets out of bed in the morning.”

  
“Aron!”, Finna is scandalized. Her father Andor shoots him a dark look. It’s true though, Rebekkah has to admit. The surgeon has never moved a finger if it wasn’t absolutely necessary or promised to earn him many golden coins. But in her family there is no talk of the shortcomings of those, who are better off. Her parents firmly believe that success should inspire them with the utmost respect. It would be ungrateful, her father claims, to gossip about him, when Brilthen had been lucky enough to have such a respectable surgeon settle here.

  
“It is understandable if he does not go.” Andor comes to the surgeon’s defense. “He does have a family to think of. How this healer from Dale can just expect him to pack up and leave on such a short notice… Preposterous!” He grumbles.

  
“Master Senius is leaving for Dale tomorrow”, Rebekkah blurts out. Every head turns towards her. “We spent the entire day brewing potions for the infirmary”, she has realized this sometime during Aron’s story. “And we will be packing his supplies tonight, he leaves at dawn. They must be desperate for medical help.” She swallows. Her father is looking wary, he knows what is coming, but she can’t think of a delicate way to bring the news across. “He asked me to accompany him, if you should allow it.” She is always direct, not one with a silver tongue, but right now she wished, she could make it sound less drastic. More like an educational trip and less like a sudden, week long journey to a battle site in a destroyed city close to a former dragon’s lair. She is about to tell him, how much she will profit from working in such a big infirmary, how much she will learn of potions, that are never needed in a town like Brilthen. But one look at her father tells her, it is too late. His jaw is firmly set, he looks perfectly calm.

 

“No.”

  
“But father, I…”

  
“No! You will not travel alone to a battle site, who knows how many orcs still roam the lands. An unprotected girl… it is utter madness. I would have expected more sense from the Potioneer”, he thunders. His face is reddening and his eyebrows nearly touch.

  
“But I am not alone. I would be travelling with Master Senius.”

  
“And what is he going to do”, interjects Aron. “Throw potions at them?” He guffaws. She could strangle him right now. She breathes through clenched teeth.

  
“Father” His eyes narrow. Maiar give her patience. “Do you remember how grateful we were, when Master Senius came to Brilthen that one winter, when Katla was running this terrible fever? He gave her some potions and she recovered within days.” She throws a beseeching look at her mother. Finna has never forgotten, how much they are indebted to the Potioneer. “It is not only warriors that need our help. When the dragon attacked Laketown, so many people must have suffered. And now they have to withstand the cold in the ruins of Dale. Women and children will suffer just as fiercely as the injured warriors.”

  
She turns to her father once more. “You have said already, that Master Senius is a rational man. I’m sure he wouldn’t rush into this journey without taking the due preparations. I understand how this must all seem to you, but why don’t you ask him about the measures he has taken to ensure our safety? He never tells me more than absolutely necessary, but he will understand that as the head of a family it is up to you, to insure our safety and wellbeing.” She is doing her best to be mature and calm. By the Valar, she really wants to go to Dale.

  
Andor turns toward her mother. “It can’t hurt to talk to Master Senius”, Finna gives her opinion. “And if you are still convinced that this trip is too dangerous, your decision will be more substantial.” Her father grunts, then pulls his soup bowl towards him and resumes eating. Rebekkah tries to hide her smile. The matter is settled.

 

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She can hear footsteps approaching her and barely has time to jump away from the door, where she has been eavesdropping for the last minutes. The door is thrown open and on the doorstep stands her father, red faced, an artery pulsing on his temple. It’s quite obvious that she has been listening, even though pressing her ear to the wooden door wouldn’t have been necessary to hear her father’s voice. Andor tends to get loud, when the argument gets emotional. They make eye contact, she is waiting for an order, most likely along the lines of ‘’come, we’re leaving’’, but he doesn’t speak. He leaves the door open and walks around her and out of Master Senius’ study. She had expected him to slam the door, instead she peeks through the open door at Master Senius, who is leaning against a table, pinching the bridge of his nose.

 

A huge smile is quickly spreading on Rebekkah’s face. She is going to Dale!

 

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The road makes a turn and suddenly they have left the forest behind them and are now crossing a meadow. Ahead of them she can make out a city, built upon rocks, every stone used in the houses a coral red and behind it, greenish-blue, partially covered in mist rises majestically the Lonely Mountain.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's note: So here is Chapter 2, where Rebekkah will get her first glance at the King under the Mountain :)
> 
> Please tell me what you think.
> 
> XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Chapter 2

 

They pass the city gates without trouble and make their way through the busy streets. Everything is buzzing with activity, houses are being rebuild, roofs are being repaired, children are running through the streets, carrying tools and food. Men are pushing wheelbarrows with tiles, bricks and wooden slats, women are trading food and clothes. There are so many people running around, Rebekkah doesn’t know where to look first. She is overwhelmed by the hecticness of it all.

  
They stop in front of a little house. The roof is intact, though of most windows only shattered glass remains. It is surrounded by a garden, bricks and roof tiles scattered throughout. The grass nearly comes up to Rebekkahs hip. Master Senius has already entered the house, she follows him carefully, not trusting the house yet not to collapse suddenly. Everything in the house is covered by at least an inch of dust. Rebekkah turns to look at Master Senius.

  
“I guess my first task will be to dust the entire house?” She attempts a brave smile. They can’t start with any of the work, they came her to do. They can’t grow herbs in that garden, they can’t brew potions, Maiar, they can’t even live in this house. This is so much worse than she thought. She has completely underestimated this task.

  
“Ash”, Senius mumbles.

  
“Sorry?”

  
“It’s ash and firstly we’re leaving for the infirmary. I need to get an overview of the circumstances and talk to Vagner.”

 

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As it turns out, the infirmary is in no better shape than their little house. Located at the very center of the town is a huge building, which has apparently been transformed into an infirmary. Most of the windows have been nailed shut with wooden planks and Rebekkah can spot many patches in the roof, where instead of tiles, they have used boards, hay and stones to close the roof. They enter through the front door, though front gate would perhaps be more fitting, and find themselves in a great hall with a high ceiling and bed after bed lining up along the wall. Rebekkah can see Men, dwarves and even a few elves in varying stages of injuries, some only seem to be recovering from a broken limb or cut wounds, while others lay in their cots unconsciously, their faces a sickly pallor and bloody stains on the bed sheets. She can hear groans of pain and inconsequential mumbling. One young man is crying and trying to hide his face in his pillow, while a healer is examining his injured leg. Rebekkah is experiencing a sinking feeling in her guts, she has never seen so many, so seriously injured people in her life. Back in Brilthen she would occasionally accompany Master Senius when he was visiting patients. They had treated a wide range of maladies from blood loss and burn wounds, to pneumonia and bladder infections, but there had never been more than one patient at a time. She doesn’t have too much time to contemplate the misery in this hall, though, because Master Senius is already approaching the next healer. He asks for chief healer Vagner and is pointed towards a smaller door on the opposite side of the hall. He strides through the room, his long legs carrying him fast, and Rebekkah has to hurry to catch up with him. She could comfortably fall into a jog beside him, she really is that much smaller, only reaching his sternum, but it would look ridiculous and she doesn’t want to lose the healers’ respect, before she has even met them. So instead, she struggles to keep up, and perhaps it is a blessing, because this way she doesn’t have time to pay the patients a mind and sees nothing else, which will keep her up at night.

  
Chief healer Vagner is nearly as tall as Master Senius, both men towering over Rebekkah. When they meet, it becomes apparent that they know each other well. The greeting could almost be described as jovial, she has never seen Master Senius so openly enjoying the presence of another person.

  
“You can’t imagine how glad I am that you decided to come, Senius.” Vagner starts the conversation. “Of course we can use every helping hand here, but I have to say a little wit and reason would also go a long way. Some of these small-town healers have probably never seen a worse injury than a broken foot. Just yesterday I had to explain how to treat a rip fracture and a collapsed lung, and it wasn’t the first time either.”

  
“Oh hush, Vagner, and let’s hope your helping hands don’t have functioning ears, or they’ll be sorely dejected by your opinion of them.” Master Senius is clearly scolding his colleague, but can’t hide the amused twist of his lips.

 

“I wasn’t talking about all of them”, Vagner defends himself. But Master Senius waves him off.

  
“Please meet my apprentice”, he continues, ”Miss Rebekkah”. He takes a step to the side, revealing Rebekkah, who has been hovering behind him. “Rebekkah, meet chief healer Vagner.”

  
“I’m honored to make your acquaintance, Master Vagner”, she replies and curtsies.

  
“An apprentice?” He nods at her, but is addressing him. “Senius, you have grown soft in your old age.” Rebekkah is not completely sure if she saw a sneer flit across Master Senius face, perhaps they weren’t so very close friends after all.

  
He makes no reply, but continues instead “I have brought some potions from Brilthen, mostly against burn wounds and pain. They are outside on the wagon, do you want to go get them?”

  
“Always prepared, I really appreciate it, Senius. I thought I’d show you the infirmary fist, we can get them on our way back. I’ve called a meeting for tonight with everybody who I involved in the rebuilding. King Bard of Dale, the Elvenking of Mirkwood, Dain Ironfoot, …” He trails off. “I don’t think this old townhall has ever seen so much royalty, even back when Dale was flourishing.” The room they’re currently in is used as a storage room for all medical things and as a meeting room, healers discuss their patients and receive advice or simply reassurance from more experienced healers. Master Vagner leads them towards an adjoining room. “You might think me paranoid”, he continues. “But I didn’t want to take any chances. There might still be enemies among us and the King under the Mountain is not going to die on my watch.” Two dwarves stand guard outside a door. They nod at Master Vagner and allow them to proceed to the next room.

  
A blond dwarf turns to look at them, he has drawn up a chair next to the only bed in the room, apparently keeping careful watch over the king. He looks very young, not older than 25 years and Rebekkah wonders why he was chosen for this job.

  
“Prince Fíli, allow me to introduce Master Senius, the Potioneer I have spoken of”, Master Vagner introduces, “and his apprentice Miss Rebekkah”. She curtsies again, Master Senius bows.

  
“Fíli, at your service”, the prince bows as well. Rebekkah is surprised, are princes supposed to bow? He smiles at her and addresses Senius, “Master Vagner has spoken very highly of you. And I have to say, your arrival could not come too soon. We are in desperate need of medical potions.”

  
Master Senius nods curtly at this and Vagner continues. “His arrival is the reason why I called the meeting for tonight. I hope he will not only supply us with potions, but support us in the rebuilding of Dale and Erebor as well.”

  
Master Senius arches an eyebrow. “What?”

  
Vagner laughs. “You said you’d arrive today and you’ve never been a minute late in your life.” He smirks. “And you never could stomach incompetence either.” For that he earns a smile from Senius, it is a rare sight.

 

“How is the king?” He addresses the prince.

  
“Unchanged” The smile, which has been on his face since the introduction turns into a frown. “He has yet to wake.” He sounds worried.

  
Master Vagner steps forward and examines the king. Rebekkah is curious, but unsure whether it is appropriate to come closer and watch the examination. Master Senius nods softly at her and moves towards the foot of the bed. She follows and once next to him takes her first look at Thorin, son of Thrain, and Rebekkah’s eyes encounter a very pale and very hairy King under the Mountain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
> 
> Author's note: So does everybody hate me yet? ;)
> 
> Next chapter, I want to introduce more characters from the movie, I just didn't want to overwhelm anybody.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A big thank you for Mallorn for being the first to review my story. You're awesome :)

Chapter 3

 

Framed by long black hair, his face is a sickly pallor. Her eyes are immediately drawn to his nose, which is his most prominent feature. He is topless, his abdomen wrapped tightly in bandages. His chest, arms and face are covered in cuts and bruises. His beard, lashes, eyebrows and hair is completely black, only at the temples she can spot some silver strands.

“The king has not awoken ever since he was injured.” Vagner informs them. “He was stabbed with a sword and lost huge amounts of blood, we hope the internal damage isn’t too severe.” He opens the bandages and reveals the wound. It is held together by at least ten stiches and the area is one big green-yellowish bruise. Vagner inspects and then lightly palpates around the lesion; he seems content. “No signs of infection”, he tells the prince. “It’s healing pretty well, now he just needs to wake up.” He moves to clear the wound with alcohol; Rebekkah winces.

“We brought a wound cleansing concoction”, she blurts out. Master Senius shoots her a look. Well shit, she didn’t want to question his medical proficiency, but there is only so much alcohol can do and using a cleansing concoction is the proper procedure after all.

To her immense relief however, the chief healer only smiles. “That is good to know. We had to use alcohol for the first week, but I know that Senius makes a potent cleansing potion.” He wraps bandages around the king’s abdomen. He turns to address the prince. “Will you be joining us for the meeting tonight, Prince Fíli?”

“I will”, he nods his affirmation. “Kíli will keep watch, because Dwalin and Balin will be attending as well.”

“Very well, we must be going. It will probably take some time to make your house inhabitable.” They say their goodbyes and Vagner leads them outside, showing them the medical equipment, the few potions they have, introducing them to other healers and presenting some patients to them, that he thinks will show them the range of injuries found in his infirmary. He has recruited a few of the healers to carry Senius’ potions inside.

“We are going to need more of these”, Vagner’s voice is challenging. Rebekkah can’t believe his tone, they were up the entire night brewing! Apparently she is not the only one irritated.

“And we are going to need herbs, a garden to regrow them, and a laboratory for brewing.” Master Senius’ voice is harsh. “I am a potioneer, not a wizard.”

“When we were studying in Bree, I remember you delivering large quantities on short notice.” Vagner perseveres.

“And I don’t remember your patients ever needing more than a week to regain consciousness after receiving a battle wound,” Master Senius says bitingly.

The chief healer stares at him. Then the line of his lips slides up and he starts laughing. “Maiar, I am glad to have you here.” He claps Senius on the back. The Potioneer smirks, but Rebekkah thinks she can still spot some annoyance. He doesn’t particularly like having his competence questioned.

 

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Back in their little house, Rebekkah sets to dusting the entire house. In every room a heap of dust accumulates just from her going over every surface she can reach with a broom. She eyes the mattress suspiciously. She gives it one measured slap and can’t stop coughing for a minute. Well, she kind of suspected that. She drags the mattress out of the room; it is incredibly heavy. Once at the narrow staircase she attempts lifting it up, but she can’t seem to get a good hold with her fingers. It is in this situation that Master Senius comes across her. He looks at her questioningly. “Why don’t you let gravity do your work?” He stalks off, apparently he has more important things to do than help her carry his mattress.

She sighs, gives the mattress a good push and sends a prayer to Maiar, that her mother never finds out about this; she would probably have a stroke. Outside in the garden she starts to beat the mattress. She proceeds the same way with her own mattress. By now her arms are aching, but the mattress is still emitting dust. She continues beating at it, but after a while a defeated groan escapes her. Frustrated she kicks at a nearby stone. Yeah, definitely should have chosen a smaller one, because this hurts. A lot. She lets out a curse under her breath that would make a sailor blush. Aron would be proud.

By the time they leave for the meeting the house is perhaps not clean, but at least inhabitable. She has shaken out the blankets, wiped down the tables, washed the dishes and fetched two buckets full of water for the bathroom. She is exhausted, but doesn’t feel so completely overchallenged anymore.

It is only when they enter the house of King Bard, the Bowmaster, that Rebekkah realizes, she might have thought of washing her hair after dusting the entire house.

 

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When they enter King Bard’s house, people are already seated around the table, talking in small groups. The blonde dwarf, they have met in the infirmary, Prince Fíli, she remembers, is in a discussion with a very old dwarf. His long white beard is tucked into his belt and he has the biggest nose, she has ever seen. Rebekkah wonders if he is the prince’s advisor, he certainly looks it. Next to him sits a huge dwarf with a bulking frame, his arms and neck all muscle, the top of his head shaven and intricately tattooed. He is not only extremely broad; Rebekkah also wonders whether he might be a few inches taller than her. Impossible, she decides, she isn’t that small. The thought, to be towered over by a dwarf. There is another dwarf in this group and her attention jumps to him only, when he gives his opinion in a booming voice. He is middle-aged, has a long brown beard and is nearly as broad as the tattooed one, except with him it’s definitely not all muscles and he is about 2 heads shorter, more the size of the elderly dwarf. At the other end of the table an elf with long, white-blond hair looks up at the loud voice coming from the dwarves. He is wearing a long green coat intricately embroidered over his tunic and the brown boots over his trousers reach his knees.

“Senius”, Vagner gives a slight wave of his hand. “Well, I think everybody is here now. This is Master Senius, the most capable potioneer I ever had the honor of meeting, and his apprentice, Miss Rebekkah.” He introduces the dwarves as Dain Ironfoot, Lord of the Iron Hills and Balin and Dwalin, both sons of Fundin. Rebekkah’s eyes widen drastically at this, never has she seen siblings, that so little resemble each other. She is not nearly as surprised, when the elf is proclaimed to be the elven king of Mirkwood. He has a certain air about him and the branches on his head did look conspicuously like a crown.

King Bard of Dale on the other hand does not look like a king at all. With his curly brown hair and his short beard there is nothing memorable about him. In stark contrast to the elven king, his coat is patched together and his shoes as well have seen better days. Rebekkah thinks him very plain and immediately scolds herself for it. He doesn’t need to look breathtaking in order to lead his people out of a burning city, to a refuge and then through a war. And she admits it must be difficult to make an impression, when surrounded by elven and dwarven kings. His daughter Sigrid is introduced last as “Lady of Dale” and Rebekkah feels a moment of relief at the notion that no matter what character the slender young woman has, they are both always introduced last, and even this out of politeness and not because their person demands it.

When Master Senius moves to sit between Dain and Vagner, Rebekkah realizes why she thought of two groups, when she was entering the room, even though everybody is sitting at one table. Two empty seats draw a line across the table between the dwarves and the Men and elven king. She doesn’t believe it was done on purpose, probably people were just flocking in and groups were formed by the topics of conversation. She can’t feel a real animosity in the room, but apparently everybody is aware of their differences. It is their hardship and the joined battle against the dark forces that keeps them together. Master Senius takes his seat and Rebekkah notices, that she alone is left standing. The only empty seat is between Sigid and Dwalin. Great, there is nobody at his table, who looks less inviting than the dwarven warrior. She quietly takes her seat and cautiously glances at him. He isn’t even looking at her, his attention is still fixed on the conversation between his brother and Prince Fíli. Next to her she hears a whispered exchange between King Bard and his daughter.

“There is no need for you to be here. You spent the day mending cloth with the women and supervising the rebuilding of the water supply system. You have to be exhausted. Get some sleep and I will summarize the meeting for you.” The king looks at his daughter worriedly.

“It is fine, father.” She smiles at him and takes his hand. But this doesn’t hide the dark circles under her eyes. “You have to let me shoulder my responsibilities.” He starts to interrupt her, but she continues quickly. “Everybody here gives their very best to see the cities restored as soon as possible and to be prepared for the winter before the first snowfall. How can you ask me to sleep when others are working? And besides”, her tone is lighter now. “Do they not call me the ‘Lady of Dale’?” She smiles and gives his hand an affectionate squeeze. His face is still somber.

“Oh Sigrid, you had to grow up so fast. You’re not even 20 yet, and you had to witness the destruction of your home and now the hurry to rebuild before the winter.”

All the conversations at the table come to a halt however, when Prince Fíli speaks.

“I understand there is lots to discuss, but let us all share our thoughts. Master Vagner, how fares the infirmary?”

“Today we could discharge twenty more patients. Many of them will be able to join the rebuilding within the week. For some we will need to find a task, where they don’t need to lift heavy or walk long distances. We lost two men today, who succumbed to their fever. This leaves us with about 200 patients. I am hopeful, that we will lose nobody else to infection, because Master Senius has brought with him a patch of wound cleansing concoction.”

Rebekkah carefully watches the reaction of everyone around her. King Bard looks relieved and even the dwarves look less grim. So their efforts were not in vain. For a brief moment she is exalted, then Master Vagner continues.

“On that topic, we have already used up all the concoction and most of the burn healing salve and the pain relieving balm. Will you have another patch ready by tomorrow?”

Rebekkah is about to interject, how could they have possibly used up all the potions in one day? Does he have any idea how much time it takes to produce these solutions?

“We will.” Master Senius is perfectly calm, she cannot perceive the slightest bit of anger coming from him. He simply looks determined. She gulps. Well looks like there really was no reason to dust the mattresses…

“For now we can produce potions from the ingredients we brought with us”, Master Senius continues. “But before too long, we will need to restock one way or another.”

“Will they last through the winter?” Balin wants to know. “We can build a herb garden in spring.”

Master Senius guffaws. “They won’t even last until the winter. I’d give them a week at the rate Master Vagner is going through them.”

The healer gives him a smirk. “Yes, but our necessity will decrease with every man we heal. After using the cleansing concoction for three days, I’m convinced there will be very little patients left with wounds so severely infected, that they are still in need of this potion. And the same goes for most of your creations, burn wounds should at least be so much healed, that they don’t need to be dressed thrice a day. Only your pain relieving balm will be much requested after I get most of the man off your milk-of-the-poppy-elixir. I am already suspicious some of them may have taken too great a liking to it.” He snorts, the answering smirk from Master Senius catches Rebekkah off guard once again. What is it about this healer that turns her somber, taciturn master into a man capable of humor? She can’t remember a single smile from him in the month she spent with him before they came to Dale.

“We will either need to grow the herbs ourselves, which will be difficult in winter, or buy them.” He addresses the Elven King. “Your majesty, I am sure your kingdom contains extensive herb gardens, Will there be a trading agreement between us?”

“In our gardens we don’t grow herbs out of necessity. There is a great variety of plants and therefore I am afraid not large quantities. But in our halls they do grow throughout the winter, so we will be able to provide you with a package every month.”

“You have our thanks”, Fíli turns toward King Bard. “I heard the second group of your hunters returned today. Were they as successful as the first you sent out?”

“Aye”, King Bard nods contently. “The animals are fat and ready for winter. I sent out about a hundred men and they returned when they had caught as much as their horses could carry. The women have spent their days mending clothes and catching fish. Meat and fish can be easily conserved, but we can’t live from solely that for the entire winter. We need flour and vegetables and if we can get them some chicken and cows and goats would provide us with eggs and milk over the winter.” He turns towards Balin. “I know you have said that merchants will flock towards Erebor, that they will come to sell their goods, because word will spread through Middle Earth that we are lacking everything except for a treasure of gold. Yet it has been a full week and nobody has come.” His voice is raised, but Balin seems unperturbed.

His answer is calm and convinced. “They will come.”

“I am not willing to bet my people’s lives on it!” It is nearly a shout. “In a month winter will be upon us and there won’t be a single merchant mad enough to travel through the snow. And then what will we do? Will we starve or freeze to death first?” His cynicism is biting. Balin opens his mouth to respond, but King Bard cuts across him. “I will use my share of the treasure to ensure that these people will survive the winter. Tomorrow I will send word to all the bigger towns in our vicinity that Dale will pay double the usual price for food, clothes, fabric, leather, herbs, weapons, tools, in short all things not considered luxuries.”

“Double the prize?!” The dwarves are aghast. “That’s ludicrous!”, “That’s extortionate!” Dwalin and Balin voice their shocked thoughts.

“It’s not like we’re throwing money away.” The king sounds annoyed. “We are using it for the very best purpose. How are you going to spend your precious gold, when we’re all dead?” He is gesturing wildly with his hands.

Dain and Dwalin are still mumbling things like “ludicrous”, “laughable”, “outrageous”, and “revolting” into their beards, while Balin is scrunching up his enormous nose. Fíli, apparently having recovered from his first shock, is quietly scrutinizing King Bard. He seems deep in thought.

“Are you not worried”, he finally addresses him, “that this offer will only attract the greedy and not the capable?”

“Large amounts of money always attract scum.” King Bard admits calmly. “I expect it to work as an incentive for many to take a week long journey just to sell us their goods.”

 

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The argument continues for some time, but they can’t seem to reach common ground on this. King Bard holds to his idea for Dale, but the dwarves think this idea so preposterous, the same can’t be decided for Erebor. Rebekkah thinks that Fíli might have agreed to the idea if he was deciding alone, but the young prince doesn’t want to force so great a decision against the majority of his kin. The dwarves instead are promised aid from the Iron Hills by Dain and they seem to feel a lot more comfortable with the idea of giving their gold to a fellow dwarf.

The conversation continues touching the rebuilding of houses, they have worked on for a week now, the restoration of the water system, they started today and the repairing of the town walls, they intend to start in another week. When the meeting finally draws to a close, Rebekkah feels like it has gone on for hours. Master Senius, once again in a quiet discussion with Master Vagner, walks over towards her.

“Come, there is still work to be done, we better head home.” Rebekkah tiredly looks up to him just in time to catch Master Vagner give Dwalin a decidedly dirty look. “And others better head back to the infirmary, from which they have not been discharged yet.”

Dwalin glares at him, but Master Vagner just stares right back, seeming rather unimpressed. Rebekkah would have tried to hide under the table, were that look directed at her, but perhaps the healer has had more time getting accustomed to dwarves and their not overly polite ways. Dwalin grumbles something unintelligible and turns around to join his brother and the prince in conversation.

“And that head wound needs to be dressed as well.” Master Vagner can’t seem to keep his opinion to himself. He is ignored.

 

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The meeting is dissolving, people are once again murmuring in small groups. King Dain is still quietly ranting about King Bard’s proposition. The Elven King, who was in a hushed conversation with the King of Dale, throws him an amused look.

Rebekkah and Master Senius are making their way towards the door, when it bursts open, revealing one out of breath healer. His hair is windswept and his green healer’s robe disheveled. He is panting for air, then manages one deep inhalation and shouts into the room:

“The King is awake!”

For a moment the room so utterly quiet, Rebekkah can hear her own breathing. Then Master Vagner is striding through the room, with his long legs it only takes him a few steps to reach the door.  It is then that the dwarves jolt awake and first Dwalin and Fíli run out the door, then Balin and even King Dain hurry after the healer. The door is left open, a chilly breeze is blowing through the room.

“Are we not going as well?” Rebekkah questioningly turns to the Potioneer.

“Oh no, we have quite enough on our plate as it is. And I’m sure the King under the Mountain is in the best of hands.”

 

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The night air is fresh and crisp, it clears her foggy thoughts of too many people, too many problems and too many hours discussing them. What remains is her annoyance at Vagner. _By the way, I used up all your potions, that just took hours to produce. Because apparently I have no clue, they don’t simply materialize out of thin air_. The hell?

“Are we really going to spend the night brewing?” She can’t keep the resentment out of her voice.

“The infirmary needs our potions.” He answers absentmindedly; he isn’t looking at her.

“Master Vagner claims he needs our potions”, is her accusing reply.

Well, now he is looking at her. “What are you saying?” His tone is sharp.

At that her nose is twitching, it’s a nervous tick. But her anger is boiling too close to the surface, so she presses ahead. “How could he possibly have used up all our potions in one day? It took us hours of brewing! Does he have no appreciation for our work?” She shuts up at his withering look.

They have stopped in the middle of the street. He is facing her, looking down his nose at her. Rebekkah feels like a disobedient child; the urge to duck her head and apologize is overwhelming. But she has spent hours in a stuffed room, bottling up her resentment and she just can’t stand it when people don’t acknowledge her hard work.

Except for the disapproving look he is giving her, his face is expressionless. Then he turns and strides away. Rebekkah scrambles after him. After a while of quietly walking, he finally addresses her.

“Rebekkah” She is simply relieved to have the oppressing silence broken. “Do you really think that the chief healer would carelessly waste medical potions?”

Well, stated like that, it does sound stupid. She finally lowers her head. There is a hole in her shoe, right where the biggest toe is.

Master Senius sighs quietly. “Your work here is very much appreciated, Rebekkah. But these are not the circumstances to praise every little bit of help.”

Little bit of help? He seems to anticipate her thoughts though and moves on. “We are not healers, who receive their patients gratefulness every day and we are not given thanks by their family, when they are discharged. But our work here is highly esteemed.”

She is hopefully looking up at him, a part of the heavy weight on her chest seems to be lifting.

“Our work here is highly esteemed. You need to remember this, because I cannot and I will not repeat this every time you are exhausted and overwrought.”

 

They make their way through the now calm and dark town. Here and there she can see the flicker of a candle through the slits of the barred windows. There are no raised voices, no rough horsing or hectic bustle. Only hushed conversation, families catching up after a full day of work and children being tucked into bed. The Potioneer and his apprentice make their way quietly towards their little house, where the light in their improvised laboratory shines throughout the night and is only extinguished at dawn, when it is replaced by the first sunlight.

 

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It is then that they finally finish their last patch of potions. Rebekkah looks at her Potions Master and upon seeing the dark rings under his eyes offers to make the trip to the infirmary. He leaves her standing at the wagon with a muttered “don’t make too much noise, when you get back”. Well apparently, things are back to normal.

When she arrives at the infirmary a few healers help her carry the fruits of their hard labor into the storage room, where she encounters Master Vagner.

“Ah, finally” He looks just as terrible as Master Senius, probably didn’t get a lot of sleep either. He nods at the healers. “I want you all on another round, all wounds treated, all bandages changed. And then we’ll take turns keeping watch. Healer Tyra and Healer Burr, you’ll be taking the first shift with me.”

Two sets of shoulders slump. Rebekkah regrets her disrespect towards him, even though he doesn’t know of it.

“I’m not a healer, but is there anything I can help with?” She blurts out in a rush of guilt. Yeah, so much for thinking before speaking. Not only does she feel like she’ll fall asleep standing, but she has opened herself to ridicule. What work could there possibly be in an infirmary for somebody, who doesn’t know a thing about healing?

“Actually”, Vagner starts. Yes, she knows, there is no need for her help, thank you very much. “Dwalin does have this nasty cut on the back of his head, he hasn’t mentioned to us earlier. It won’t be needing stitches, so if you feel up to cleaning and bandaging a wound, that would be relieve. I don’t think I can put up with his pig-headedness right now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, the king is finally awake, what do you all think? Please tell me how you liked it :)


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

 

Even with hair left only on the left side of his head, the other side heavily bandaged, Dwalin still looked intimidating glowering after her. She had thought nothing of it, when chief healer Vagner had asked her to apply some of their freshly brewed wound cleansing concoction to Master Dwalin’s head wound. The injured warriors were the reason why she and Master Senius had stayed up the entire night brewing. Bandaging a cut was a task you didn’t need to be a healer for and Master Vagner had assured her, that the wound wouldn’t need stitches. So Rebekkah had gathered a small medical kit, the wound cleansing concoction and a knife and walked right up to the bed, which Dwalin was currently occupying.

“Master Dwarf, I’m here to dress your head wound”

Wordlessly he had moved to sit up straighter and turned the injured side of his head towards her. She had produced the knife from her bag, but didn’t get to unsheathe it. Stopped by the pressure of a cold blade against her throat, her eyes had snapped to his face. A low growl from his throat was the only noise in the infirmary, everybody else apparently just as frozen mid action as Rebekkah. She can see him clenching his teeth, his eyes are slightly narrowed and focused entirely on her.

Shit. She takes a deep breath. ‘’Master Dwarf…’’ Her voice is trembling. ‘’I have to clean your head wound, before I bandage it.’’ Perhaps she should have mentioned this earlier. ‘’To be sure that everything is completely clean and because the bandages will hold better, I have to shave off the hair around the wound.’’ The pressure on her throat is lessening, but the knife is still there. She is holding his gaze. What else can she tell him? The fact, that poisoning him while he is recovering in the infirmary would be like shooting fish in a barrel, is probably not a very good idea. So she decides to give him some time. Taking short, careful breathes she looks back at him questioningly.

He is lowering the knife, unsheathes it and shoves it back under the pillow, where he had apparently taken it from before, though she hadn’t even seen him move.

“Don’t just draw a knife on warriors; old habits die hard.” His voice is gruff and accusing, but she decides to take it as the underhanded apology, that it probably is. “Well, go ahead and clean the wound, lass, but leave the hair.”

“I’ve already explained, why it has to go.” She can’t believe him, why can dealings with a dwarf never be simple?

“I’m sure you can manage. Just get the worst of the dirt out, and it’ll heal just fine.”

Okay forget about dwarves in general making things complicated, he is being stubborn just to spite her. “We are not having a discussion about this.” She notices her voice is getting louder. “The proper way to cleans this wound is by eradicating all possible sources of infection, bandaging it securely and giving it time to heal.” She is trying very hard not to lose her patience. “You can refuse, I’ll leave and tell the healers, you don’t want your head wound treated. Everything else is a waste of time and supplies. There is a reason, why this is the way it is done.”

He pushes his jaw forward slightly and glares at Rebekkah. Well she can be just as stubborn. She waits. He once more moves to the side and turns the injured side of his head towards her. She is pretty sure, she just heard a muttered “Melkor take you, woman”, but swiftly decides to ignore it. The cut on the back of his head is 2 inches long, running from his right ear toward his neck. It is caked in dirt and dried blood and Rebekkah considers calling another healer to his bedside. But they all have patients to treat, heavily injured and close to dying (like a certain King under the Mountain). She is not the only one who stayed up the entire night working and this was also the reason why she volunteered to help with the injured, even though she has no experience in healing. And Master Vagner seemed perfectly convinced, when he told her that the cut would heal without needing stitches, if it didn’t get infected. It would be disrespectful to search the infirmary for him only to question his medical proficiency. Well perhaps first the hair. She carefully starts shaving the hair on the right side of his head off. With a wet cloth she tries to get the dirt off, but it refuses to budge. “This is going to hurt a little. It’s sticking to the wound.”

“Get on with it.” He cuts her short. Now it’s her turn to clench her teeth. Seriously she has no clue what she is doing and he is being snappy. Indignation flares up inside her it gives her the necessary ruthlessness to get on with her task. She scrubs out the wound until she can’t spot any more impurities. By then the wound has started bleeding again. He has remained stoic the entire time. Despite her anger, she is impressed. She drenches part of a bandage in the wound cleansing concoction, then firmly wraps it around his head. He turns to her and she has to suppress a snort. He does look terrible with the bandage running diagonally across his face and a cluster of hair sticking out at the left side of his head.

“I could shave off your hair entirely”, she offers.

Her answer is a snarled “get out, before I forget myself”.

She decides to make a hasty exit, perhaps she has overestimated his patience and rationality, but she was only trying to help. Grabbing her utensils, she gets up to leave. On throwing a look back at him, she sees him glaring daggers at her back. She makes her way through the infirmary. Everybody is looking decidedly at neither her nor Dwalin. She nearly runs out the door, she can fell his glare, turns left and sinks into the wall, relieved to have escaped the situation unscathed.

Damn, she needs to work on her self-confidence, if she is going to continue working with dwarves.

 

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She is putting her utensils back where she found them, when the healer that Master Vagner chose for the first shift, enters the storage room. Rebekkah turns to the shelf again, fussing with the medical kit and trying to hide her still blushed face.

“Are you alright?” The young woman asks her. Rebekkah remembers that she was referred to as Healer Tyra. “Was Dwalin bad-tempered again?”

Rebekkah turns around. “Not until I shaved off half his hair”, she admits with a sigh.

Tyra’s eyes widen, she starts snickering, and at Rebekkah’s consternated look, she erupts into laughter.

“It’s not funny!”

This does nothing to quiet the healer.

“Master Vagner told me to carefully clean the wound.” She did exactly what she was told to do.

“And you decided to shave half his head?” She sounds endlessly amused.

“The cut was really big.” By Maiar it seems really stupid, when it is summarized like this.

“And you left the hair on the other side?” Tyra is smirking.

“I offered, but he nearly took my head off.”

At this the healer bursts once more into laughter. “You offered to shave off the other side as well? Oh you are amazing.”

Rebekkah buries her head in her hands, she will never live this down.

“Oh, don’t be like that.” Tyra quite obviously doesn’t share her dark thoughts. “Just imagine, one day you can tell your children the story of how you shaved off the hair of one of the fiercest dwarven warriors.”

Her light-heartedness is infectious. Perhaps nobody will find out about this, Rebekkah tells herself. She even carefully smiles at the healer. “So I heard the King under the Mountain finally woke up last night?”

“Well yes, he woke up last night, but he sleeps most of the time. He still needs to recover.”

She points at the door, guarded by the dwarves. “I’m scheduled to check on him soon, do you want to come?”

“I’m not sure. I don’t have anything to do there.” But she admits to herself that she is curious, how much the King has improved.

Tyra waves her off carelessly. “You can assure yourself of well the wound cleansing concoction worked.” And she heads to the door.

Rebekkah follows and tells herself that the saying: ‘Curiosity killed the cat’ doesn’t apply to this situation at all.

 

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“We check on his wounds once a day”, Tyra whispers.

They slink over to the bed, where the King of Silver Fountains is sleeping quite peacefully.

“We gave him a lot of your milk-of-the-poppy-elixir during the night, so he has been out for a few hours. He probably won’t even wake up, when we change his bandage.”

When the bandage falls away, Rebekkah feels pride rush through her. Even though the wound is still bruised green and yellowish, the wound corners aren’t as angry red as they were the day before. Their potion has certainly helped him improve.

Tyra sneaks over to the armoire to get more of the wound cleansing concoction. Rebekkah turns back to the king; the scar really is ghastly, it looks like it was caused by a rugged blade. He is still pale, but his skin has lost the sickly look. Her eyes travel up his body to inspect his face.

And meet a pair of arctic blue eyes fixed upon her.

She gives an undignified squeak and swirls around to Tyra.

“He is awake.” What are they going to do now?

“Oh good, I’m going to get Vagner, stay here.” The healer rushes out the door. “And don’t let him die”, is the last Rebekkah hears from her.

“Wait.” She calls after her. Wouldn’t it make more sense for the young healer to stay behind and her to get Master Vagner? But Tyra is gone and Rebekkah is left alone with the King under the Mountain.

Rebekkah gathers all her courage and turns toward the dwarven king. He is frowning at her.

He points at his torso. She glances at his abdomen, then back at his face. She doesn’t understand.

“Are you going to close this up?”

“No” She doesn’t know how to and they haven’t gotten to cleaning the wound yet. And Master Vagner will probably want to check for himself, when he gets here.

He is frowning at her. She forgot who she is dealing with.

“No, my lord.” She hastily adds.

“Are you not a healer?” He questions grumpily.

“No, my lord, I’m not.”

“Then what are you doing here?” The king is getting angry.

A thought flickers across her mind. She was here to get a peek at the Lord of Carven Stone. No way, she is going to admit that.

“I am assisting Master Senius with the potions.” She waves in the direction of the armoire, hoping to get him to look at anything else than at her. His eyes have not wavered from her face for the entire conversation. He is scrutinizing her. She can’t hold his gaze, it feels like his eyes are pinning her to the spot. She nervously shuffles her feet.

“And now, you are doing what exactly?” His voice is raspy.

Her head snaps back to him. “Waiting for the chief healer to arrive?” She suggests.

“And not letting me die?” Is his grumbly reply.

She nods weakly and he sighs.

He closes his eyes. But judging from the uneven rising of his chest, he has not suddenly fallen asleep. He apparently has decided to ignore her. Well that’s fine with her. She leans with her side against the wall and watches every rise and fall of his chest. He does have a lot of hair. And a very nice chest. Which obviously is not the reason, why she is looking. Like Tyra joked, she is making sure, he doesn’t die. The chest is rising and falling and her eyes are getting heavier by the minute. Inhale and exhale and her eyes are slowly closing until

BANG – the door bursts open and Master Vagner and Tyra, their arms full of potions, bandages, food and water for the king rush into the room.

Rebekkah jerks upright. Master Vagner throws her a questioning look. Before she has to explain her presence again, she decides to take this as her cue to leave.

Her cheeks are still pink from embarrassment, when she arrives at their house and she is very glad that Master Senius has already gone to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so I'm really unsure about their interaction. Did it work for you?


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: A big thank you to Linh for leaving me such a great review. I was really worried, it would be terrible. So thanks again for taking the time to tell me your thoughts.

Chapter 5

 

The sun was at its highest, when her Potion’s Master decided that Rebekkah had had enough sleep. She blinks languidly at the bright light. Her body feels heavy and when she forces herself to raise her hand in order to shield her eyes, the motion seems incredibly slow. She has a fuzzy feeling in her head, like it is wrapped in cotton. Hadn’t there been a reason for her waking up? Looking around the room her eyes fall once more upon her master. He is regarding her amusedly. Is it because she probably looks like something the cat dragged in or because he asked a question and didn’t receive an answer? Perhaps she should ask him to repeat it.

“I slept the day and the night?” She blurts out; apparently the brain-mouth-connection isn’t working yet.

“Oh no”, he retorts dryly “you slept about 5 hours and we need to get started on the laboratory.”

Her piqued look at his response is misinterpreted.

“I want to have another patch ready by tomorrow”, he continues “and before that, I think we should sort and store our ingredients.”

Her annoyance was not caused by the part concerning the laboratory. She wants to protest against his sleeping habits, but her thoughts are sluggish like mud, and she is already awake after all.

Before she can grunt an affirmation, he is gone.

 

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Their breakfast consists of bread, hard cheese and a little bit of meat. They still have some leftover food from their travelling.

She wonders where they will get more food. She didn’t see any being sold. They do have food here, right? She is glad she didn’t voice that question, when she recalls that King Bard was talking about hunting and fishing.

Everything is gathered in one house, where they distribute the meat, fish, and vegetables or roots, or whatever they have found in the forest. She remembers he was telling them at the meeting. They also plan on having a central kitchen, where they’ll have soup ready in the evening for everybody. She will need to stop there tonight, their provisions are drawing to an end.

They finish their meager breakfast and head towards the laboratory. Not a single word has been spoken. The empathetic man from yesterday has turned back into her taciturn Potioneer.

 

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Alfalfa, arnica, ashoka, astragalus. Rebekkah is happily whistling. Master Senius went to get more firewood and left her in charge of sorting their herbs. The storage room has always been her responsibility, he doesn’t like wasting time on organizing. She enjoys creating a little world, where everything is exactly where it is supposed to be.

Belladonna, bitter leaf, black cohosh, blueberries, burdock. The whistling stops. “Black cohosh”? Perhaps she should rather sort it: “Cohosh”? They don’t have any white cohosh. Her nose twitches. She is chewing on her bottom lip. On the other hand, what if at some point in the future they do get white cohosh? She relabels the jar and places “Cohosh, black” between chasteberry and comfrey.

 

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They are busy brewing again. Rebekkah doesn’t think she has ever produced as many potions in such a short time frame as since their arrival in Dale. She has just finished another patch of the burn healing salve; the room smells of asphodel, comfrey and pine.

It is the first potion she can complete by herself. Master Senius was carefully watching her progress of course, she is new to this and a lot depends on the effectiveness of their potions. But at least he doesn’t need to abandon his own work every few minutes when she asks him how small the comfrey leaves need to be sliced, how finely the pine bark is supposed to be ground or if the paste is simmering at the right temperature. She does still interrupt his work with her questions, but for once he can answer them while continuing to stir in his cauldron. She likes the security checking back with him gives her. “The potion is boiling, I’m going to add the asphodel now”, only got her an affirmative grunt, but she knows from experience that he is listening carefully, and will notice an error immediately.

But now the salve has been taken off the flame, a smooth homogenous paste sitting there innocently as if it hadn’t taken three hours of thorough brewing. Rebekkah brushes a few strands behind her ear; the fumes and heat from the cauldron make her hair frizzed. She always secures her long, brown locks in a bun when she is brewing, but after a while a few tendrils always escape. Who is she kidding after a few more hours her hair usually looks like a rat’s nest. But she guesses every job has its downsides.

She moves across the room to the shelves, where they store all their ingredients. At home in Brilthen they had a separate storage room, some of the herbs don’t tolerate the higher temperature that comes with two open flames very well. They don’t have another workroom though, everything is still improvised. They have to move their kitchen table between the two rooms, because there is only one workbench. Once most of the stress is over, they could probably store the herbs in the kitchen, after all that room is not heated 8 hours a day. But by then they will likely have run out of ingredients to store.

She starts to collect coneflower, henna leaves, lavender cotton and summer savory for her next potion.

“You can bring the components of the wound cleansing concoction over here.” Master Senius addresses her. “I think you’re ready to get started on the pain relieving balm.”

She hasn’t been allowed near the analgesics before, no gathering or preparing the ingredients, no watching over the cauldron while he worked on something else. The pain relieving balm and the milk of the poppy elixir have always been strictly off limits.

“So I’ll get the elderberries, eucalyptus, calendula and white willow for a start?” She’d never use them without his permission, but that doesn’t mean she can’t look. There is lots to be studied about the art of potions, the practice as well as the theory, and she is dedicated to learn as much as possible from her apprenticeship.

“Only the elderberries at first”, he instructs. “And why is that, Rebekkah?”

She shrugs her shoulders clueless.

“The raw berries are toxic, they need to be cooked beforehand”, he lectures.

He guides her through every step of the brewing process, meanwhile finishing a new patch of the wound cleansing concoction. Under his tutelage she boils the elderberries, discards the brew and replaces it with fresh water. She painstakingly squeezes the juice from the berries, she tries to extract as much as possible; their supplies are limited. Rebekkah adds the dried eucalyptus leaves, they’ll need to be removed later on. She meticulously grinds the calendula blossoms and long before the white willow is pulverized, her hand starts cramping. She tries using her other hand, but isn’t satisfied with the outcome. She switches back to her right hand, it hurts. When she glances up at the Potioneer, he is returning her look. She could ask him for help.

He is letting her prepare the pain relieving balm for the first time, she will not be defeated by mortar and pestle. She straightens up and starts with new determination.

 

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Her arm is burning from the tips of her fingers to her shoulder. There are red blotches on her cheeks and sweat drops are running down her neck, where they are absorbed by her tunic. With an exhausted but nevertheless big smile she shakily pushes the jars of pain relieving balm towards Master Senius. She receives a nod.

She also receives the order to haul their potions to the infirmary. Perhaps this is to be her punishment for the comment she made about Master Vagner.

She hopes vehemently that Dwalin has already left the infirmary.

 

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When she arrives at the former townhall, she stops the wagon in front of it, hops down from her seat and throws a careful glance through the front door. It’s not that she is afraid of Dwalin, but if he were still in there, she’d appreciate to be prepared. Which is reasonable, she finds, after all the last time they met, he held a knife to her throat.

“Miss Rebekkah”, somebody is calling her. Healer Tyra makes her way towards her. “Do you need anything?”

“Erm” What should she tell her? Awkward? “Actually, I could use some help unloading the potions.” Nice one, Rebekkah.

“Of course”, her smile is friendly, which is quite a feat considering she got as little sleep as Rebekkah did. “Let me just get more help.”

She reappears quickly with two healers Rebekkah doesn’t recognize. They carry the jars into the storage room.

Rebekkah thanks them for their help.

“Oh, no. Thank you!” Tyra emphasizes. “We haven’t used up all of the potions yet, but we’re running pretty low again.”

Rebekkah snorts.

“Where do you want the potions?”

She points at a shelf. “We store them all in here, only the king has a personal stock in his room. Oh and I think we need to replenish his supply of pain relieving balm”

She grabs a jar and starts in the direction, when there is suddenly a shout.

“Help! I’m bleeding. Somebody help!”

Tyra twirls on the spot. For one moment she looks almost comical, a jar in both hands, her eyes wide, her mouth forming an “o”. She apparently doesn’t have a lot of experience as a healer.

Then she jumps into action, pushes the potions into Rebekkah’s hands, grabs a bandage from the table and hastens into the next room.

Which leaves Rebekkah with the two salves. She could just put them on the table, but she can’t see what objections anybody could have to her carrying them where they are supposed to go and taking the empty jar along with all the other empty jars back to the laboratory.

She approaches the dwarves still guarding the door. They nod at her and let her pass.

She steps quietly into the room, and throws a glance towards the bed. The king is sleeping, his chest rising and falling evenly. There is yet again a bandage around his abdomen and he is still pale, the blood loss was apparently quite extensive.

She tiptoes to the armoire, where she can spot their potions. She puts down the balm silently and carefully picks up the empty jar.

“Miss Rebekkah”, the voice is loud and rough.

CRASH

She whirls around. The king under the mountain is staring at her, his eyes are the same icy blue she remembers. She is opening her mouth, then closing it again. What is she supposed to say?

“Have you come to shave off my hair, while I’m sleeping?”

“No … of course not. I … came to bring your potions.” Wait, what?

One eyebrow is rising at her stammering, his eyes are shining with mirth.

Wait a moment, oh no he didn’t. She has to overwhelming urge to hide her face in her hands. The only patient she has ever treated just has to be friends with the dwarven king. Oh, how is she supposed to act?

She looks at him, which doesn’t help, then at her feet. There are shards of glass around her feet. Luckily the jar only cracked into a few parts and didn’t splitter all over the floor. She bends to pick up the pieces.

“I brought you another jar of pain relieving balm, my lord”, she stutters while she gathers the shards. She looks around the room, she doesn’t know where to put them. She peeks back at the dwarven king. He is still regarding her amusedly. Her glance flickers to the shards in her hands, then back to the king. Right.

“Well, I’ll take my leave.” She nods at him, then remembers that she should curtsy, hesitates for a second, then rushes out the room.

By the Valar, why can she never set foot in the infirmary without embarrassing herself?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: So my lovely readers, what did you think? Perhaps you could tell me, using this very convenient little box below ;)  
> And if you're not feeling up to leaving a compliment; criticism is always welcome as well :)
> 
> And lastly: Is there a character (except Tauriel) that you're missing in this story, or somebody who should get more "screen time"? I'm open to suggestions.


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